Understanding the Founders
by Robin Moto
Summary: On hiatus until I get over my writer's block. Sorry for the wait.
1. Well met Sir Knight

The first time I saw Salazar I sensed nothing of the darkness that would one day destroy our friendship. But I have never been considered a good judge of character.

I had been told to be wary of the Slytherin boys, and even more so of their single daughter. Their family was considered silver, while mine was gold. In other words they would do anything to get their claws into the first son of Gryffindor, and the heir apparent.

Salazar was younger than I by a good few years; I had already been knighted while he was only halfway through his page training. But I saw something of myself in the boy.

Anyway, on with the story of how I first saw him, then perhaps I will tell you of our first meeting.

My father and I were visiting other good wizarding families around England and were in London at the time. We were invited to a gathering to celebrate one of their daughter's coming of age. She was a pretty witch, and I did dance with her, but her heart was already decided and her parents were happy with the match.

There were other girls, but none attracted my fancy, I knew my father would choose a suitable match, and I had long ago given up on finding my 'true love' in England.

While my father would not have disowned me for having my fun with muggle girls, I knew that my wife could not come from them, and so kept myself apart.

I really should stop wandering from the point of this story shouldn't I?

I walked out onto the balcony, finding the air refreshing after several glasses of wine. I would like to say that I was not drunk, but a knight never lies.

My host kept kennels, hunting dogs mostly, and as I later found out it was one of Salazar's duties to feed and groom the house dogs.

While normally these dogs were allowed to roam the house at will, one bitch was with pups, and was being kept outside in the kennels. She was not best pleased with this. I was first attracted by the sound of whimpering and whining, then a more cheerful bark.

Curiosity that would one day be my downfall led me there.

A boy of ten or eleven years, dressed in the house colours, was comforting the bitch with meats that had been served at the party.

I never saw his eyes, but he had a mop of black hair and a rather pale complexion.

That was the first time I saw Salazar, making much of a hound who felt abandoned. He always loved animals, and could tame anything, or at least make it respect him. I don't believe he saw me then, but maybe he felt my presence.

Maybe that memory is why I continued to trust Salazar for so long, how could someone who loved so fiercely ever be decided by hate? But I was never a good judge of character.

* * *

My father had decided to stay the night. He didn't tell me why, but I think he was considering our host's older daughter as a suitable match. I remember her simply because we danced well together, then at the breakfast table she managed to actually talk to me instead of simpering.

It was unusual for me to consider a woman a friend, but I think me and Charlene could have been if our situations had been different. As an unmarried maiden she could not be seen as entertaining a friendship with any man, and then when she married she took her husband's views, which were opposed to mine and my family's.

I must admit that at that time I was much absorbed in thoughts of my future wife. While my father had made clear to me the duty of continuing the line, I did have hopes that I would have the same partnership that I sensed from my grandparents before they passed away.

In that effort I made sure to pay attention to the girls of marriageable age, and on occasion made my father known of my impression of them. He in turn would listen, then inform me why each girl was suitable, or not, and what he had noticed about the girls themselves and their family present.

It was educational to say the least. I would one day be expected to move in my father's circles with the same grace and attention to detail. I'm glad to say my father was for the most part proud of my character, if not my common sense, but I was the heir and one day I would need good friends and powerful allies.

To say I did not have friends would be a bit unfair, but part of me did consider the other young men beneath me. Then there was my gift.

Wandless fire. It was a family gift, from my mother, but I was the only one of her children to display the talent, and my fire burned far brighter than hers ever did.

In all fairness this gift did make me cocky. I might have been fearless, but I was also reckless.

Maybe Salazar will one day forgive me. I doubt I'll ever forgive myself. He was my friend, the best friend I had ever known, we knew each other better than we knew our selves. And I let him go, I drove him away, it was my fault he turned against us, it was I who refused to listen, it is me that he now hates. It is me who will end him, and him who will end me, it has been foreseen and foretold.

The breakfast table was well lain out, I remember the food being good, even if I don't remember exactly what I dined upon.

Our host had two squires and three pages, with Salazar being the youngest, or at least the smallest there. When they began to clear away plates our Host beckoned to Salazar, "Boy." The other pages took fright, but Salazar was as cool as ice.

"Sir?" The tone was polite, but something in the stance was not.

"Where did you disappear to last night? Ducking your duties again?"

Fear, but also rebellion, "No Sir. Maxine…"

"Knights don't lie. You weren't anywhere near the kennels last night."

Now while I wouldn't normally interrupt a master telling off one of his servants, I had also recently taken an oath that I would _always _tell the truth, even when it would lead to my death.

"Sir, he was in the kennels last night, seeing to one heavy with pups."

Heaven and Hell were contained within the looks I received then.

"Sir Godric, do you claim that one of my own knights would lie to me?"

"No Sir, I was merely informing you that this boy was within your kennels last night."

It was perhaps lucky for both Salazar and myself that my father decided to intervene.

"Now Aloysius, I was thinking of acquiring a page for Godric here, teaching might steady the boy, you know what young lads are like."

"Continue…"

"Well since this is the first time I have seen Godric take an interest in anyone other than the young ladies, it would be agreeable to me if we came to an understanding here with young…"

"Salazar Slytherin. I owned the family a favour and agreed to take the lad on, he would need knocking into shape, but his spell work so far has outdone my other pages. His father is not a problem."

I was watching Salazar's face as my father and our host discussed his fate, and while I am not the most perceptive of people I did believe I saw a sharp pain when his father was mentioned.

I wondered about that for many years. Salazar was the youngest of seven; I knew that much about his family at the time. Two of his brothers were already knights, the heir married well and had a daughter, the second son was crusading, the third son expected his knighthood soon, the daughter, his sister, was of marriageable age, while the other two boys were squires.

I knew of no reason for the pain, and did not learn of it for many years. By then it was too late to heal the wounds that torn the Slytherin family apart. Maybe even then it was too late to save Salazar.

I thought I knew him. I thought he trusted me. I know I trusted him. I never thought we would die together, part of me always believed Salazar would outlive me, he was too careful while I was foolish, he was quick and nimble while I relied too much one my strength.

He still is my best friend, I don't think I could ever kill him, and yet it has been foretold, and I am no coward to go running from his fate.

But maybe, one last time, we could sit together and talk for hours like we used to, retelling the old tales where we only lived because of our wits and our friends.

When we left that day, I had a new page, and that is where our tale began. If I had remained quiet that day then maybe our lives would have been different, maybe the world would have been different.

I know my life would have been shorter.

* * *

**AN - I have read a few stories of the founders and they interest me in a way most background chars don't. I considered the titbits we have been given on the founders and tried to imagine the time period and how such different people came to found a school together. Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor both became politically powerful in their world, but I believed their friendship must have been formed while they were still young.**

**I don't consider this story to have a plot, it will be just spotlights in their lives, and I hope to show how they could have ended up at war. You know where it'll end, but it's the journey that's important.**

As for updates, they'll happen when they happen. This won't be a continuous story, so it might jump around abit (or alot). I know when Helga and Rowena will meet this story, but other things must happen along the way, such as Godric's marriage, and that's not yet a clear image in my mind.


	2. Salazar confounded?

**AN - Hey look an update, I don't believe it. And I had a review, thank you Flutterby Princess.**

* * *

**Salazar Confounded**

Salazar Slytherin was confused, and it wasn't a state he had ever enjoyed. He just didn't have enough information to form a proper plan, and now he was being taken who knew where in the company of Gryffindors of all people.

He knew about the Gryffindors, they were powerful and wealthy, but they kept themselves to themselves, mostly limiting themselves to the Somerset area. He had never expected to fall into their company and had mostly ignored them, a mistake that he was only now regretting.

He simply didn't have enough information and it annoyed him. He prided himself on always knowing more than those he encountered, and if he didn't he would bluff it.

But…

Taking on someone else's page wasn't done lightly, yet the elder Gryffindor had decided so quickly and it seemed that Salazar had no choice in the matter.

He couldn't believe old Aloysius had actually let him go! The old goat had never (to Salazar's knowledge) let anything go. What's more was that Aloysius hadn't wanted to let Salazar go, Salazar knew that much; he could read Aloysius easily, and the old guy had wanted to refuse.

Why hadn't he? Why was Salazar now part of the Gryffindor household? Were the Gryffindors so powerful that Aloysius couldn't refuse? Or was it just the elder Gryffindor?

Salazar couldn't read him, and he had a feeling that this old guy wouldn't be fooled by any act; he was watching Salazar too closely. Salazar had expected to be watched while he saddled the mare, expected to be watched as he rode (and was slightly ashamed that his seat was painful still from the last beating).

He didn't expect his every move to be watched for hours on end. What was worse was that he couldn't catch the old codger watching him. He just knew someone was.

At least the younger Gryffindor was easy to read. Godric seemed clueless at best, and something in his stance told Salazar that he was resigned to his fate.

It made Salazar want to rebel.

How was he going to get out of being a knight now? Pretending to be dishonest hadn't worked; it had just gotten him more beatings. Being useless at sword work had seemed to be working.

His plan had been so simple. Annoy Aloysius until the old guy refused to knight him on principle. It had been working, and the beatings were worth it if it meant that he wouldn't have to become a knight, he had other plans that didn't involve dying in battle.

He would have to test the waters first, and he was meant to be Godric's page, not Lord Gryffindor's. Who was still watching him!

Salazar's stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had missed breakfast because some little Lordling couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Stupid Gryffindor.

Salazar dug into his pack, nearly unseating himself. (Now that would have caused him to go up in flames from embarrassment.) He was right, there was some travel bread. He chewed on it, it wasn't prefect, being burnt on one end, but it was food. Figured, the cook had never liked him, always pronouncing that one day he would come to an evil end.

Ha! Salazar would show him. He would show them all, he would be greater than Merlin, Talisman and Circe all rolled into one.

And he was still being watched!

Think of something else… anything else. He had to stop soon. There's more interesting things than me, right?

Then the questioning began. Godric had ridden ahead, and it seemed that Lord Gryffindor had waited for this to happen.

"Count Aloysius said your wand work is good."

"Yes Sir?" Salazar said, aiming for caution.

"Can you create light with your wand?"

"Yes Sir."

"Can you change the colour of this light?"

"…Sometimes Sir." Salazar tried not to wince away; some of his reaction must have transferred to his mount for she tried to dance away. The time spent calming her made Salazar feel even more nervous. Lord Gryffindor was waiting for him.

"To which colours?" The questioning continued as through nothing had happened.

"Green, blue and orange. Sometimes I can manage red." Salazar replied, waiting for the sneer that would have flowed onto his father's face. Nothing came, except more questions.

On and on, could he form illusions, could he move objects, how far and in what direction, could he move living objects, could he bring fire, could he change the nature of a object, what defences did he have, what offences. It went on and on, until Salazar was answering mostly "No Sir."

At that point Godric decided to show his face again, with the products of his hunt. Six little bunnies all in a row. Salazar had to wonder how he had managed to find six rabbits along a heavily hunted road.

The first hint of jealousy was born.

Salazar was sent off to find firewood while Godric gutted their meal, and Lord Gryffindor set up their camp place.

When Salazar returned he set up the wood in the circle of stones made ready for it. He had to make several trips before Godric was satisfied they had enough to last through the night.

Stupid Lordling, didn't he know they would never need that amount of wood? It wasn't like it got that cold during the evening; it wasn't even true winter yet.

Then Lord Gryffindor began to question him about his sword work. Godric wasn't impressed. After the first snort that covered a laugh Salazar decided to ignore him, he wasn't the master here.

That must have been why Godric managed to get the fire burning so merrily before Salazar had a chance to see what he had done. Salazar felt annoyed with himself at this; he couldn't afford to miss such a valuable spell.

Then came the real work. The hated, the nasty, the inevitable; sword practice.

Godric obliviously didn't expect much of a challenge out of a weedy little eleven year old. But Lord Gryffindor didn't pull out the wooden blades, he drew the blunted blades. Real weapons. They could kill.

Godric could kill him.

"You should be good enough at this point boy that you can handle metal." Godric informed him with a smirk, did his fear show through so clearly? Or was Godric just guessing?

Block, clang, block, ouch! Salazar's blade went flying.

"Get the blade quickly boy." Godric ordered him; Salazar took his time, not on propose but because the blade had tangled itself in a bush.

The assault came again, and again. Salazar didn't even try to attack, he just tried to keep away from the blade, and protect himself with his own. He lost count of the number of times his sword went flying, and the first embers of resentment began to burn.

Then Lord Godric announced, "Time to eat." The rabbits were done, and Salazar was exhausted, his arms shook and he couldn't remember a time where he wished his arms would fall off just so they would stop complaining.

He dropped the blade.

Godric glared at him with all the fury of a rampant lion. "Never, ever drop you weapon."

Salazar trembled, expecting the blow. When it didn't come he darted downwards and picked up the blade of a thousand tonnes. His face felt like it was about to caught fire.

"Don't shout at the child Godric." Lord Gryffindor reprimanded his son.

"I'm sorry father." Godric said, but when his eyes turned back to Salazar they said a different story. _How dare you embarrass me in front of my father?_

Salazar's face stilled burned but this time with fury and hate.

_I will win. I'll be better than you, and defeat you, and you'll never dare to look at me that way again._

Salazar fell asleep planning how to overcome Godric Gryffindor.

* * *

**AN - Okay, I know I changed the style but I didn't think Salazar would spend much time reflecting on the past, and updates will still be random. I do have a plan, and the plot bunnies are multiplying, hopefully I won't run out of carrots.**


	3. Friends? Let's Pretend

The next morning was… strange, and strained.

Gryffindor senior acted as if nothing had happened last night. At least as far as Salazar could tell.

But Godric… that was another story, Godric was watching him now. If was enough to make Salazar want to hiss. He was nowhere as good as his father, but then he wasn't really trying to hide that he was watching. And it was just watching, not calculating, not studying, just… confused.

…confusing.

While Lord Gryffindor was talking, lecturing really, on what Salazar would be expected to learn in the next year. All the time Salazar was trying to listen, but being all too aware that that _knight_ was watching him.

It was almost enough to make him wish for the simple disaster of the past couple of years. _Almost._

Salazar mentally collected himself. There were good points mixed in with the bad.

Lord Gryffindor was far more intelligent and forthright than any master Salazar had served with before. He wouldn't fear Salazar's intelligence, but he would clearly see through his schemes, or at least it felt as if he would, and Salazar trusted his instincts in this matter.

There would be far more learning, in both the magic and the physical, and less of the serving. Lord Gryffindor seemed to believe that Salazar should have a life beyond being a page. That was new, and strange, and Salazar began to wonder what he would be able to do beyond those strict boundaries that had tried to hold him in place before.

He knew what he could do when he wanted to rebel. But…

He could learn so much from them. They were a powerful old family; they must have spells older than the entire Slytherin clan.

Why would they teach _him_ those spells? He was nothing, a non-entity, as his brothers liked to remind him. He was the seventh of seven children, five of those before him were sons, and all lived, and all were healthy, and all were fit to rule. However…

What would they think of him? Well he knew what his brothers and sister thought of him, but what would Godric? What would Lord Gryffindor?

A seventh son, a possible friend, maybe ally, depending on how powerful he became. He would be a_ safe_ friend for Godric, and even if he wanted to manipulate Godric it would be better for Godric to learn now, and take precautions so he wouldn't be so easily manipulated next time.

He, Salazar, was meant to be a lesson. Probably in more ways than one.

1. How to earn someone's trust and friendship. (Failed already)

2. How to react to betrayal.

3. How not to be manipulated.

4. How to recognise the signs.

It made him angry, but Salazar stilled the anger. It did him no good here and now. Slytherins were known not to be trusted, it was in their blood, power hungry and proud, and their only friend was the power they courted.

That may have been true of his grandfather, and it was true of two of his brothers, it might even be true of his father. It wasn't true of Salazar. He didn't want that.

He didn't crave power for power's own sake. He wanted strength, he wanted safety, and most of all he wanted to be able to survive his brother, Tobias, inheriting.

That Tobias was the third son and unlikely to inherit any time soon didn't still the fear, and Salazar recognised it as fear. Kalian was as power hungry as Tobias, but he was the first son, and somehow expected all his brothers to be happy with their places in life.

Kalian would die. Salazar knew this with surety; he also knew Kalian would leave no heirs. His wife, Katherine, had already been rendered barren thanks to a little known potion. Katherine didn't know yet, and neither did Kalian.

That Salazar knew was enough to mark him a dead man once Tobias seized power.

**Concentrate**.

Tobias isn't here. Kalian isn't here. You are far away and getting further by the second.

How can you make the Gryffindors trust me?

Train hard, stay true, and don't betray your hand.

…wait.

What if I never returned? Tobias would have no need to kill me if I stayed away. Kalian wouldn't call me home, neither would Tobias.

He would miss home. But wouldn't it be worth it? He would be safe. But… could he get Godric to trust? It would be easier than getting anyone else to trust him. Godric acted like he would trust someone even if they woke him up while holding a dagger to his throat and said 'This is for your own good.'

But Godric hated him at the moment. That glaring last night had been clear enough. He was working from a negative; it would be harder but not impossible.

The question was where to start.

The question was; why was Godric watching him?

Lord Gryffindor hadn't spoken to his brat, Salazar was sure of that. Godric had been the last to rise, and Lord Gryffindor had been lecturing them both all day. Didn't that man ever take a breather? The only time he had stopped was when he was expecting an answer.

Not that it wasn't interesting, but the theory of illusions didn't seem that important. So what if the spell 'Lumos' only cast the illusion of light and not the truth of light, wasn't illusion itself simply light? But if the light was the illusion then how could they see by it? And why did the spell 'Lumo' take more energy and focus and wand movements? Did it matter that the extra sound shaped the magics better?

It was strange. Why did certain words work with a wand to work the magics? Salazar wanted to consider these questions. Salazar was having to consider these questions simply because if he didn't then the quality of the lecture was lessened as Lord Gryffindor tried to match the lesson to his intellect.

It was strange. Lord Gryffindor was assuming that he was as intelligent as himself. It was strange. It was different. Salazar was finding that he liked it, it was an old hunger, wanting to be treated as an equal. But it was strange.

And Godric was still watching him. Salazar decided to meet his eyes. The gazes held for a moment, both looked away. There was something…

They couldn't be friends.

Godric was a first son, an heir to a powerful estate. Salazar was… nothing compared. He wouldn't inherit anything from his father, and the only things he really owned was his wand.

But maybe Godric could be convinced that they were, that they could be, that he could be trusted.

Did he have a choice? Well there always was his death by brother. Or gain more power. Or run away into the unknown lands. Or became his brother's possession. Or Godric's…

Learn now; plan now; act later.

There was nothing he could do now. Both of his travelling companions were older, more experienced, stronger and faster than him. If he ran now, he cut off so many of the options open to him.

They stopped for the night. This time in an inn. Lord Gryffindor had stopped talking of magic once they moved into sight of the small market village. Salazar dealt with the horses. That was something he knew how to do, and he did it well, he _liked _horses.

Godric was waiting for him once he left the stables.

With swords.

"Salazar… I don't know about you, but I hate fighting, and I hate feeling like this. I'm sorry for how I acted yesterday." It was back, the hurt puppy look, the confused hurt puppy look. Why was Godric looking at him like he, Salazar of the house of Slytherin, could somehow effect what he, Godric of the house of Gryffindor, would feel?

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "You _dislike_ fighting?" he said, indicating the swords.

"No, I mean yes. But, it's not the same! Fighting isn't _fighting_" Godric babbled.

Salazar grinned. Godric was so easy to play…

Godric grinned back. "So I'm forgiven?"

"If you show me how to block that move that kept losing me my blade." Salazar found himself saying.

It would be so easy to pretend, and so easy to forget.

"Sure, but we need to build you up a bit first." Godric said as friendly as you could hope for.

It was always easier to pretend when you wished something was true.

* * *

A/N- Okay, I lied. So far I have updated twice, exactly 15 days between updates. There might even be a storyline. Wait... I think I have a storyline, shock! horror! ;)


	4. Beloved?

During the journey I remember warming up to Salazar quickly.

He didn't mind being corrected, and I had to several times. His sword-work was terrible. I think looking back now that he truly hated the sword work. I know for a fact that once he was knighted he never once suggested we practice, and I don't think he ever did on his own.

I wonder if my constant request for mock battles wore away at our friendship. He never once said no, never once said, sorry I'm not up to it today. Then again I only asked him because he was one of the few people who could fight me to a draw most of the time.

He never duelled with swords; he preferred his wand for duelling. Not that he duelled often, he seldom needed to, unless as my second, or to defend a certain lady's reputation.

He never offended anyone by accident… except for his brothers. I wonder now if they hated him even then.

He didn't talk of his family to me, and I in turn did not ask. After seeing the pain speaking of his father caused I choose not to bring up the subject until he was ready.

We visited many places, and we did not return home close to three months after my father had acquired Salazar.

So many parties and a tremendous amount of people. I know I had trouble keeping them all straight. I can't even remember half the girls I spoke to and were considered. Well I considered them, I think my father already had a short list and wanted to see what sort of girl I would prefer so he could make his final decision.

I remember feeling slight jealousy at Salazar during those months. He picked up spell-work so easily. I clearly remember thinking at one time 'Am I six years behind or is he six years ahead?' when he clearly understood theory better than I ever could at that age.

It was always the way. I would excel at anything involving the body, he would excel in anything involving the mind, and we both turned out to be terrible at things concerning the heart.

It is almost funny now I think of it.

Out of the four of us, I think only Helga truly understood her own heart, and she always made sure everyone knew how she felt.

I miss home. I always do when I'm away. None of the others seem to understand how my land can call to me. I gave up my title and land to my son, but the land doesn't understand such things as ownership, to my land I belong to it, and I should live and die there, and not be miles away teaching youngsters how to defend themselves.

Not that I'm a good teacher. Pretty bad if you consider the survival rates of my students.

I wasn't cut out for this, I wasn't cut out for teaching then, and I haven't learned anything new since.

Just look at how many times Salazar got hurt while I was teaching him. All I ever did was bash away at him until he finally learned how to block me or get out the way.

I tried to show him what I was doing, and how to block it, but he just couldn't… or wouldn't.

At least I know he's still alive. Not like… but I won't talk of her. Not yet.

Instead let me tell you of my wife.

She was beautiful. She was smart. She had fire.

Not my kind of fire, but an intensity that burned in her eyes. She lived with passion; every day she lived she found a joy in life. She fought for those she loved, and lived for them and only them.

If she hated you, then you simply didn't exist in her world, but if you angered her then you had better expect pain.

Copper red hair, hundreds of freckles and a laugh that could chill me down to the bone, or throw me in a volcano.

I never loved her, except as a friend. I doubt she loved me.

We were friends, after a time. When we first met I laughed at her jokes, and we shared several dances, and she was polite enough not to laugh when I stumbled.

She disliked the amount of beer and wine I was prone to drinking. She never said anything overt, but occasionally I would find my drink bespelled to fruit juice, or once mud, but that was only when she was really angry with me.

Salazar liked her very well indeed. They weren't exactly friends, but both would converse well enough with each other. I think Faith saw him as a little brother. She would always lightly tease him whenever he started to get too prideful.

I tried to be friendly. I tried very hard to make sure she felt welcomed.

Is it my fault they both got homesick? I went out of my way to be nice.

Salazar didn't fit in well with the other boys. He talked differently and refused to modify his accent. He always was proud. But after the first awkward few months he proved himself, and became a bit more accepted.

It didn't help that most of the boys around that were his age were commoners. I think Salazar envied them that. Or maybe he just considered himself above them because he had magic and they didn't.

Like I said before, I'm not a good judge of character. I don't know why Salazar choose to spend his time with me instead of those his own age. He was a very good judge of when I didn't mind, and when I really wanted him to leave, so it didn't cause problems.

I became to rely upon him. He was very good at asking the questions that would make my understanding deeper. He was very good at reading people, and shared that talent with me. Maybe I shouldn't have trusted him so much.

But he was a friend. A trusted friend. He never betrayed me. He fought by my side.

Anyway, I was saying of my wife's homesickness.

If Salazar had been older at the time…

I found both of them one day in a hidden part of the garden. She had been crying when Salazar found her. Naturally he had tried to comfort her. I don't know why, at his age I think I would have retreated quickly had I found a lady in distress.

When I came upon them, she threw herself upon me, and began to weep again. I know I must have looked very confused, because Salazar wanted to laugh at me. He told me so himself later on, and he did in later years whenever he retold the tale, and often used that story to make me seem less frightening to the younger students.

I wanted to retreat then. It was the first time I had been wept on. Instead I stood there awkwardly until Salazar rolled his eyes, and motioned me to put my arms around her.

Then he slipped away. Leaving me with one very upset woman in my arms.

It seemed we stood like that for eons, but it can only have been for a minute or two.

The sobbing slowly calmed, and then she took a deep breath and pulled away.

Her eyes sparkled from the tears, and I wondered how she could look so beautiful while her face was blotchy and her eyes red rimmed.

"I thank you my Lord. I'm sorry for making your tunic wet." She went all formal on me, like during the first week she had arrived, and I wondered if the past few weeks work had been in vain.

"It was no trouble." Then we stood there staring at each other.

"I should return to my duties." She declared, and started to walk away.

"Wait..." I said.

"Yes my Lord?" She turned and looked at me. Embarrassment overtook me, I was after all only young.

"It is nothing. Don't worry. I shall not keep you from your duties any longer." I heard myself saying. _Foolish boy_. I berated myself when she was gone.

When Salazar later asked me what had happened after he had left, I think it was only that I was supposingly his master that stopped him from declaring me a fool.

Later still Salazar came up with an idea. He gave me a brunch of flowers and told me to give them to Faith. How he knew her so well I'll never know.

When I said "These are for you" stiffly, she dropped her needlework, took them from me and took a deep breath.

"Oh Godric, how did you know?" She asked, but didn't expect an answer. Her eyes filled with tears again, "They smell like home. Thank you Godric."

It was the first time she used my name without Sir or Lord affixed to it. I didn't realise till later.

I miss her. Maybe I did love her. She was always steady by my side, and was happy to guide me, and stopped some of my sillier plans ever taking place.

I miss her warmth. I miss her joy. I even miss the mud replacing my wine.

But part of me is glad she did not live to see Salazar's pain, and our friendship destroyed.

Yet another part of me wonders if events would have come out this way if she had lived to this day.

At least she lived to see our son take his rightful place. At least she lived to see her grandson.

At least she died as she would have wanted to, protecting those she loved.

But I miss her, and sometimes I wonder if I loved her.

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AN - Hey lookee another chapter, and this time it's Godric. I think I'll stick to updating every 15 days for now, I just had several deadlines all jump on me, but 3 of them should be gone by next chap, and the others by christmas. 


	5. Names

Salazar sipped at his drink, trying to shake off the feeling of misplacement.

He was meant to be serving drinks, not being served.

Godric had some strange ideas.

Among them had been insisting that his squire would be a guest at the welcoming ceremony, and not a servant.

So now Salazar was standing as near the door as he could, sipping his drink, watching as Godric's family and friends celebrated the birth of Godric's first son.

The happy parents had yet to announced his name, Salazar had wondered, but it seemed it was the tradition to announce the name of a child after it had survived its first week.

Faith looked tired, but she glowed under the attention, Salazar had to smile at Godric's attempts to fade into the background. It wasn't working, too many people wanted to congratulate him, and it was defiantly making Godric uncomfortable, enough so that he was deflecting questions to his wife. Faith didn't seem to mind, but Salazar caught the faint annoyance in her eyes, Godric would be in trouble later.

The babe itself, _himself_, Salazar corrected mentally, was a content little bundle, and was currently making the rounds of the Aunts, Faith had a great deal of Aunts and Great-Aunts.

There was a serious lack of youngsters in the room. Where were they all? They had been here earlier. There had been at least a dozen around his age, mostly girls, and quite a few younger children. Faith's family seemed to produce more girls than boys, but that could just be because the older boys were in the middle of their training and couldn't come in time for the party.

It wouldn't be especially important to them after all, Faith was no longer a part of their family, she was now a Gryffindor, and her new family was wealthy and powerful enough to take care of her for the rest of her life.

It was important to Faith. He had seen her face after receiving the letter saying her father would not be in attendance.

She had laughed, saying "Business always was more important to Father than trivial family matters." It hadn't hid the pain, so similar to Salazar's own.

He tried not to think of the letter he had received from his sister only a few weeks ago. It was a time to be happy, a time to celebrate, Godric valued him enough as a friend that he want his friend Salazar at this party, and not his squire.

That a sickness had struck at the Slytherin home not all that long ago should be put from his mind. His sister was safe with friends, she wasn't anywhere within the danger zone and had been blocked from it.

His father was there, and three of his brothers, Kalian, Tobias and Julian. Those four were dangerous, ambitious, and clever.

Salazar had to wonder, and apparently his sister had as well, if the sickness was as random as it seemed. Tobias wouldn't have hesitated to strike at Kalian if he had had a chance, maybe something had gone wrong.

The sickness didn't respond to magic, didn't respond to potions, and no longer responded to the muggle method known as medicine.

It had been an ordinary sickness before, only striking at muggles, as most normal sicknesses would; only magical sicknesses would attack witches and wizards, very few would go after both.

Only the most deadly would go after both.

He was clenching his flask, warm liquid quickly becoming cold dribbled through the crack he had made, he transferred the flask to his other hand and examined it, the copper was misshapen, warped. A spell here would attract notice, so fixing it was out of the question.

A well known voice called for attention. Lord Gryffindor was starting his speech. Salazar mentally groaned, there was no chance he could slip out before all his drink had been split on the floor.

The housekeeper would kill him. Marion would kill him, then all the pieces that were left of him would be swept up and placed in the compost pile, or they would burn them.

What could he do?

He downed the warmed spiced wine, and tried not to choke. It was stronger than he was used to, barely watered down, if at all.

A glowing warmness filled him. The fear receded somewhat.

The speech was coming to an end, quicker than any Salazar had yet to experience. "So my Gentlemen and Ladies, may I introduce the newest addition to our house; Kendric of Gryffindor."

There were cheers, and laughter. The Gryffindor heirs' names always ended in 'ric'. It had held true for many generations and Lord Alaric was unlikely to change that. Not that Alaric used his given name, he always declared himself to be a Gryffindor before all else.

It also held true that the second born would be named from the mother's family, and the third born would be named for a loyal ally to the family who had passed away. The others would be named as their parents saw fit, but neither Godric nor the current Lord Gryffindor would break this tradition, what would be the point? It was just a name.

Yes just a name, a name that gave power, if only in the minds of the Gryffindors, a name that gave the right to rule.

Salazar stared into his empty flask, and wondered what his own name meant. He had never been told, never really wondered. These people celebrating now seemed to believe far more in the power of names than his father ever did.

He placed the deformed flask beside the doorway and slipped out the room, he didn't want to think of names any longer.

The younger ones wouldn't welcome him, but more because they felt nothing for him than out of spite.

The older girls were laugh and giggle, and exclude him from their conversation. The younger girls might fear him, and would certainly avoid him.

He wondered along the corridors, not really knowing where he was going, at least until he heard voices.

"Gomer! Give it back!" A young girl shouted, sounding rather upset. "Clovis? Please…" Then pleading.

What was going on? Gomer and Clovis… he knew those names, their fathers were friends of the family. One a distant cousin of Faith, Clovis was the cousin he thought. The second was son of a merchant.

Both were older squires, both were big and had a solid look about them. Salazar could interfere… but it would mean he would receive a beating.

"Please…?" The girl's voice sounded wane. Was she giving up? "Don't… please." No, but she didn't dare to shout anymore.

Salazar rounded the corner, and slide behind a suit of armour. The boys didn't see him, they were too busy laughing, and tossing a book back and forth over a torch.

He fired off a spell, "Depulso" and the book changed direction in mid air, heading straight towards the young girl.

"Do you have to pick on the poor book?" Salazar asked, coming out from behind the suit of armour.

They were quick to turn at his words, and Salazar wondered if running away was an option. No, not and have Godric still respect him.

Was getting into a fight a better idea? Not really… but Godric wouldn't punish him too heavily, while running would mean he wouldn't see the library for a year or more. It had already taken him two years to gain permission to choose which books he would read.

Salazar smiled at that memory, Godric had strange ideas about what was suitable reading for a page, and he would hate to see what Godric would pick for a squire.

War chronicles were never the most exciting subject, and some of the writers had a brutal way with words.

Gomer and Clovis seemed to think the smile was for them. "You don't scare us Slytherin." Clovis bravely announced.

"Nor should you. I would fear the lady's wraith." Salazar said and his smile widened. For indeed the young girl, she couldn't be more than eight years of age, had hidden the book within her clothing, and had pulled out a wand.

"Effervo Canistrum." She called out in a clear voice, and a swarm of bees erupted from her wand and began to attack the two boys.

They didn't seem that startled, and scampered away.

"Interesting choice my lady." Salazar said, bowing to her.

"Thank you for your help Sir. My name is Emily, of the house Kenway, may I know of yours?"

"Well my Lady Emily, I am as those…" he flicked his fingers to show what he thought of them, "named me, I am indeed of the house of Slytherin, but you may call me Salazar."

She giggled, "Well… Salazar, I am glad you came when you did. My cousin… seems to think it is amusing to get me into trouble with my governess."

"I cannot abide those who would destroy books in a game, so my Lady, may I escort you anywhere? I would hate to see such a pretty lady be set upon again." She was pretty, in the way all young things are, and educated if her words about a governess were true.

"I would like to return to the garden, my friends will be waiting for me there." She wouldn't meet my eyes anymore, the bravery of before seemed to be reserved for dealing with her cousin.

"Then my Lady, let me show you the way, and perhaps you can tell me why you choose that spell?" She blushed then.

"I don't know that many curses." She said in a whisper.

He smiled, "Then perhaps I could suggest some?"

The walk to the garden did not seem to take long, even if Salazar led her via the main circulatory corridors. She thanked him again, and he watched her join her friends.

If only more would talk to him so pleasantly.

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**AN - Hope you enjoyed, and thank you to my two reviewers, I could tip my hat to you, if I had a hat that would tip. ;)**


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